


not a friend

by SavageNutella46



Series: Maribat One-Shots [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: A little angst, Anxiety, College AU, F/M, Fluff, NO CAPES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27214888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavageNutella46/pseuds/SavageNutella46
Summary: "Are-are we reading the same page? I-Are we reading the same book?" She flips the book over to see that the cover, indeed, have the words 'Essential Calculus' on it."I know you're confused right now, but if you want to pass this class, you have to want to try, Dupain-Cheng." She scoffs and slams the book closed.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Series: Maribat One-Shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882840
Comments: 45
Kudos: 253





	not a friend

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I really wanted to. Also, I would like to give this to my friend who’s diagnosed with anxiety.

Marinette gapes at her not-friend-partner, said partner spewing off information directly from the calculus textbook that was open in front of him.

It’s not as if she didn’t understand the information, she just could not interpret it into understandable knowledge. It’s like when you look at the time and all you see is numbers, forgetting to go the extra step and actually _know_ the time instead of staring at the clock like an idiot.

Damian looks up at her uncharacteristic silence and raises an eyebrow in silent question.

She continues to gape like a fish, training her eyes back and forth between her own calculus textbook and the man in front of her rapidly.

"Are-are we reading the same page? I-Are we reading the same _book_?" She flips the book over to see that the cover, indeed, have the words ' _Essential_ _Calculus_ ' on it.

The fuck? Since when is calculus essential?

Damian sighs, closing the green textbook a little harder than to be deemed 'normal' for said man.

"I know you're confused right now, but if you want to pass this class, you have to want to try, Dupain-Cheng." She scoffs and slams her own book closed.

"Want to try? Of course I want to try, dude! We can't all be stupid nerds like you." Damian raises an eyebrow and the ghost of a smirk forms on his face.

"Stupid nerd? If I wasn't in your English class, you'd be failing that, too." She gasps and brings a dramatic hand to her chest.

Psh. She knows it’san oxymoron, but her useless brain decided it would be a nice time to go on autopilot and forget everything in favor of staring into Damian’s green eyes.

What?

"You!" She pointed at him.

"Me? Is that the best you can come up with?" His smile grows a little more into an attractive smirk.

Fuck. Repeat after me. That was _not_ hot _at all_.

Yet, the blush on her cheeks chooses that exact time to be present, out of all the times she was alone, this was the time.

"Just-just teach me calculus." She grumbles, picking up the textbook from the wooden library table and opening it back up to page 201.

He wordlessly complies, opening up his own textbook. She gulped and turned back to her own with her oh-so red face.

Two days pass, and with sorrowful rapidness as they did so. She’s left in the same public library with her head in her arms and a pit in her heart.

She’s going to fail this exam. Why does her professed have to be such a fucking idiot he can’t teach the class correctly?

“It’s not the teacher, it’s you.” She bites her lip and flips up her middle finger at him without looking up.

“Fuck you, Damian.” Her voice withers at the end, and she hope he didn’t notice.

He does, anyway. One of her hands are enveloped with the warmthness of his own and he squeezes it, melting what was left of her poor fool of a heart.

_Ugh, just take it all, why don’t you._

“Let me help you again.” The deep and warm undertones in his voice provide so much comfort, yet she can’t help but feel as if he was wearing x-ray goggles, studying her.

“Yeah, okay.” She lifts her head and sees his deep green eyes, peering into her. The blush on her neck is visible by now, judging by the ambiguous look in his eyes when they trail slightly downward and freeze at the slow movement in her throat as she talks.

Marinette opens the textbook back to page 201.

She walks out of the testing room with droopy eyes and a heavy heart. She hasn’t failed the test, per say, but she definitely did not get a good grade. All Marinette wants right now is a large coffee with half a cup of sugar in it.

So she takes her place on the wooden chair.

Coffee had never been her friend, but the supporter that had stuck with her through all of her mental breakdowns and one-person study sessions.

She looks at the other regulars in the cafe, laughing and talking with their partners. It weirdly creates a warm atmosphere, despite the fact she’s always alone. She supposes she doesn’t need a partner. After all, the only thing they would do was leave her after another girl with sausage hair happens to transfer to her college and take away all her imaginary friends again.

She lifts the paper cup to her lips and takes a sip.

The bluenette opens her closed eyes—when did she close them?— at the unmistakable sound of her friend—not friend—clearing his throat.

Damian eyes her with an indescribable look. One some would say, caring, but she knew it couldn’t possibly be the look in his eyes right now.

He’ll never care about her. No one will.

_Lila snarls at her, grabbing at her arm with her pointy claws and sinking them into her flesh. Marinette cries out and is twisted to the dirty, wet floor of the girl’s bathroom while Sausage Hair crouches down beside her and brings her lips to the bluenette’s ear._

_It starts off with a manic laugh, and then, suddenly, Lila’s spouting words into Marinette’s ear, as if she could hear it over the constant ringing that echoes in her ear canal. Still, she catches some words in her haste to adjust out of Lila’s grip, which is promising deep cuts._

_“-No one likes you-“_

_“-took all of them-“_

_“-even—parents-“_

_“-like you-“ she bites her lip to stop her eyes from watering. They both know it’s true._

_They both know Lila Rossi has ruined her life-_

Damian clears his throat again, and her head snaps to him.

“What?” _He’ll leave. Just like everyone else. Not even your parents like you anymore._

He’s looking at her with a single raised eyebrow and a sincere look. “How was it?” The soft voice that comes from his throat almost rumbles against her ears, as if she were to rest her hand on a piano perfectly exuding the notes in Debussy’s _Clair de Lune_ , and feel the vibrations against her hand.

She coughs into her mouth and shakes her head a little to get rid of the thought. “Fine.” He seems to understand she doesn’t want to talk about it, and instead, stands up.

It isn’t until they’re sitting side by side on her cheap, brown, velvet sofa, almost stuck together, watching Gossip Girl that she realizes he might just be her friend.

She turns her head to side-eye him inconspicuously, but he catches the movement and raises his eyelids a little.

“I have tinnitus from the time I saved Jagged Stone’s cat from an airplane runway and the jet from the airplane blasted in my ear.” The corners of his mouth pull down a little, and she almost wishes she could’ve taken the obvious lie back.

No, she had to know.

“That was an obvious lie, Marinette. Please, do better.” He rolls his eyes and she almost cries.

He isn’t like everyone else. He wouldn’t leave her for sausage hair.

She smiled, big and toothily at him, to which his cheeks tint red and he looks to the side in embarrassment.

“What?” She doesn’t answer right away, only grabs his hand and squeezes, hard.

“Y-you don’t believe me?” He scoffs and shakes his head.

“Thank you.” She turns back to Gossip Girl.

It’s only when the episode ends she turns back to Damian to say something and her eyes catch on his cheekbones, how sharp his jawline is, as if it could cut cheese on its own and the cheese would thank him.

He’s looking at her, she knows, and she opens her mouth to say something, but no noise comes out. She roves her eyes back to his own and marvels in the dark green, so different from the swamp green that held such toxicity and sneered in her face on occasion.

They look at her with such intensity she almost chokes.

“Marinette.” He murmurs, the first time he’s ever uttered her first name brings a shiver to her spine and a hot blush to her cheeks.

“Yes?” She whispers back, eyes dropping down to his mouth. He leans in a little bit, and now she can feel the hot breath pouring out of his lips.

He doesn’t answer, only leans in and presses his warm lips to her own. It’s not a kiss she’d ever expected to have with such a person, but not an unwelcome one.

He might be a little more than a friend, now.

She dismisses the thought and wraps her hand around the back of his neck, kissing him deeper.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, yeah. He might be a little more than a friend, Marinette.
> 
> If you didn’t understand that last part. I’ll explain it to you. They’re watching Gossip girl and she turns to Damian and blurts out a blatant lie (one of Lila’s worst, in my opinion.) to see if he was like her classmates. When he doesn’t believe her, she knows he’s different. She’s safe with Damian.


End file.
